


Love

by Dedicate Kiwicrocus (cranky__crocus)



Series: SMACKDOWN '11 R2, R3, Final - CIRCLECEST [53]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Goldenlake, Multi, Other, smackdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-11
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/Dedicate%20Kiwicrocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago, Tris would never have comprehended being in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SMACKDOWN at Goldenlake: fiefgoldenlake.proboards.com

            Years ago, Tris would never have comprehended being in love. She had sought it as an outside force, something that she had to gather and garner into her life but failed to do so. It had taken her nearly a decade to realise she could not find love because she was already in it; she found herself instead, amongst those she knew best.

            She understood that when Briar said, “I couldn’t sleep,” he had been woken by nightmares of the dead he could not save and the pain that had been forced upon his lifetime. She knew to squeeze his hand and sprinkle a few herbs under his pillow.

            She understood that when Sandry said, “I’ve been working too much,” she was lonely. Tris would visit her at the citadel and occasionally stay for a few days, or bring Sandry back to Cheeseman so they could all smother her in love.

            She understood that when Daja said, “My house feels empty,” that she had noticed her family had been travelling often. Tris and Briar, when at last together again, would collect Sandry and gather their family together again. Sometimes on those occasions they would visit Lark and Rosethorn at Discipline.

            Occasionally it was spoken, but primarily Tris’ love was of action and affection—the affection and actions she afforded few others.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daja had known love before.

Daja had known love before. It had been a force of great surprise and heat, when all other heat she had known had been within her. Love made the world around her hot; she had always fit in heat. But that love was not forever love: it was fleeting, adored for the time it was there and ended on terms that made her feel iced.

            But Tris had said, “She should have come with you, Daja. You have more to offer than a manipulative Empress,” and Daja’s heart had warmed.

            Sandry had stated, tears in her eyes, “We came with you, Daja. We’ll _always_ come with you when you need it,” and Daja remembered the feeling of _home_ even as Sandry lost a piece of her home heritage.

            Briar had shaken his head and thrown an arm over her shoulders, adding, “She was somethin’, Daj’, but you’ll find someone more. We’ll search together, near and far, wherever she’s hiding,” and Daja remembered humour.

            It struck her that she had known love far longer than she had thought. She kissed them all. The residue of Rizu’s love would pain her heart, but she had three even greater auras to guard and love it. She loved them all right back and shared the heat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briar wasn’t one to state it aloud these days...

Briar wasn’t one to state it aloud these days, but he had tripped into love and hit the snares at the bottom before. It hadn’t been meant to be. For all the gal’s wicked humour and cleverness, she had been brought up as nobility and intended to retain it to a degree that Sandry had never embraced. Briar still had his street-urchin heart; he couldn’t stomach refined nobility for long and certainly not for life with a lady.

            Sandry, with all her stubborn noble streak, was not afraid to find dirt on her hands or mud in the fibre of her dress. She gave as good as she got and called Briar out where others might not. She spun them all together and never minded his few nettles. She would always be his Sandry.

            Tris could be distant, could throw up all the walls she could build, and would still bond with him thick as thieves—and he knew that companionship in his blood. They were thicker than thieves. She had been the first girl he felt as a true companion (not a natter-brained silly frass-lass); he could tell she would always remain that. He thought of her any time he opened a book, which was a fairly regular occurrence these days. She would always be his Tris.

            Daja was his companion in a way he had not comprehended in youth. He had had best mates on the street, those who knew his mind and did not judge him for it, but Daja went beyond that. They spent much time together when Sandry spent her days at the citadel and Tris at Lightsbridge or any of her various travels. He and Daja sat in silence or shared grins, laughed until it filled the room. He brought her out to taverns some evenings because he knew, high as her eyebrow arched, she secretly enjoyed it. She would always be his Daja.

            He didn’t say it much—not in so many words—but he hoped they all felt it as strongly as he did. And, knowing they were in the magic that coursed through his heart with his blood, he thought they must. Briar loved them all more than life itself; they had brought him back from death just to love him more. That wasn’t the sort of think a lad forgot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But three areas of it were absolutely non-negotiable...

Sandry’s heart was open; it had always been that way. No matter how many times the children of her travels had ostracised her—or worse, grown into friendship with her just in time for her to _leave_ —her heart remained open to it for the next time.

            She had felt her draw to Daja immediately. She had known the girl hadn’t needed sticking up for, but necessity was not what drove Sandry: injustice and prejudice lit her fires. It had been one of the happiest days of her life to have made a friend and see her again—see her in a place that would be _home_ , _together_. Daja was in a compartment of Sandry’s heart that would never release; it was closed, only because it knew the love within it would never leave.

            She had felt the need to take Briar under her wing immediately. She didn’t _tell_ him—he would have hated that—but she had done it as subtly as she could manage, usually with humour. She still smiled whenever he put milk and honey in his porridge. Her pride over the man Briar had become was endless. The compartment of her heart that Briar took up would also never open again; the love within it would never leave.

            She had felt the need to befriend Tris immediately. Sandry could tell, after life as the outsider, what sort of child had never known true friendship; she wanted that to be something Tris would know in her life. When Tris had pointed out the worth of every article of Sandry’s clothing, she had desired nothing more than to help Tris see the world a new way—see people for their inner worth, rather than outer presentation. To see Tris smile these days, full and wide and beautiful, was one of the most wonderful sights she could witness. Tris’ compartment in Sandry’s heart would also never open again; the love within it would never leave.

            Sandry still knew of her open heart—it would continue to welcome others in. But three areas of it were absolutely non-negotiable: those that belonged to Daja, Briar and Tris. Her heart had closed around them. She was in love for life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They’re in love...”

Two pairs of brown eyes watched grown adults in a garden. The sun filtered down into the gardens of the Cheeseman Street House. Briar planted bulbs in a plot. Sandry stood close enough that her leg touched his back; her hand grasped Daja’s. Daja stood beside Tris, their arms linked as they peered into the same book.

            “They’re in love,” Lark said softly. She took Rosethorn’s hands and knit their fingers together. “Would you ever have guessed it, Rosie?”

            Rosethorn stared out at them. The lines of her face were relaxed; the tension had eased for the moment, a sight for which Lark was always grateful. Rosie swallowed and adjusted her throat for speech. “Not so plainly. But who could understand someone better than one who has known another’s mind?”

            Lark chuckled, soft and subtle, as she turned to kiss the woman’s temple. “I would think love might wish for a break of mind-sharing.”

            “Some love,” Rosethorn responded as she turned. “But there’s a reason you have me instead of Crane.” She indicated the children—their children, no matter how grown—with a jerk of her head. “No matter the difficulties, it strengthens love. The lives we’ve had, we need all the strength we can have, especially in love.”

            “Why Rosie, you’re waxing poetic today.” Lark grinned.

            “Daft kids bring it out of me,” Rosie replied, glaring over her shoulder at them in the garden. “Their fault. Their happiness makes…makes me happy. Don’t you dare repeat a word, Lark, but I love them; there’s nothing more I could wish for than them to find love in each other. This is how it should be.”

            Lark shook her head, somehow an act of agreement combined with her tender smile. If the Circle children could do such a thing to Rosie, they and their love would certainly change the world even if in at a small, individual manner.

            “Oh stop _looking_ at me like that!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! C: Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
